Hath faded away, such a sight to see;
And the grass where he sat, that was bright and green,
Turned pale as the blades where a stone hath been.
Ha! ha! old pilgrim! may I go with thee,
Thy doings fearful and strange to see?
He nodded his head; not a word said Death,
For he had little need to waste his breath:
A man of short speech, he speaks in his brow;
He looks what he means, when he says “Come thou!”
We paused near a maiden with rosy cheek,